Broken Bones and Bloody Knuckles
GAHH What is wrong with me? I CAN'T STOP WRITING THESE, I DON'T EVEN-
Anyway... Tumblr has gotten to me. No doubt about it. I blame my sudden (and eventual) obsession with Felix and Calhoun on the internet. In my defense, the former is adorable incarnated and Calhoun is just awesome. I probably didn't do them any justice here, though- I am ashamed, but had to get this out there. My eagerness for this movie has yet to dissipate. I don't know if it ever will.
Warnings: possible and probable OOC-ness, and I'm not sure how "getting hurt" works in the WIR video game world so I just winged it. ENJOY!
Wreck-It Ralph belongs to Walt Disney Pictures- I made absolutely no money/profit off of this.
"You're an idiot."
Felix aimed a pitiful glare at the taller blonde woman beside him, shifting the piece of raw meat over his black eye to where it stung more.
"Am not," he mumbled, kicking at a speck of imaginary dirt beneath the bench they were both seated on. Sergeant Calhoun folded her arms over her chest, free of her armor for once and replaced with a looser fitting top and trousers, still space marine issue. She shook her head.
"No, you are," she said matter-of-factly. "Only an idiot would come over to Hero's Duty unprepared, albeit once the arcade had closed, and decide to 'drop in' on me while I was training."
"I didn't know you could punch that hard," Felix murmured thoughtfully, but it was evident that he had curled in on himself at Calhoun's sharp tongue.
She shook her head again, slower this time, like one would for an ignorant child. "You should have called ahead. You're not programmed for something like Hero's Duty."
The maintenance man shrunk even further, whimpering at a sudden sting from his wound, and pulled the meat away with a sigh. One of the Nicelanders had suggested it, and practically shoved the thing into his hand when he hadn't responded fast enough. He would have to throw these gloves out…
"I wanted to surprise you," he said, sighing morosely, and Calhoun's gaze flickered unwittingly to the crumpled bouquet he had brought for her.
"You know I don't like surprises," she said stiffly, ignoring the odd tightening in her chest.
Felix nodded again, the look in his wide blue eyes (one puffed and blackened) akin to that of a kicked puppy. "I know, Tamera."
At the rare use of her first time, Calhoun blinked. The space marine sergeant, sitting tall and erect like an officer during inspection, bent slightly to observe the smaller man. Felix was nearly hunched over himself in self-depreciation, the raw meat sagging limply in one gloved hand, and his right eye swelled by the force of her punch. She could still see his cheerily lit face in her mind's eye, the adrenaline coursing through her system not leaving room for second-guessing or hesitation, before she delivered the blow that knocked him off his feet, followed by the bitter feeling of horror welling in her gut.
She sighed once, an action rendered nearly indiscernible if not for the slight rise and fall of her shoulders. "…But," she began, resting a hand against Felix's hatless head, "it was also very sweet."
Felix jerked back up; expression absurdly hopeful, though his round features soon flushed and he looked back down in embarrassment. "Ah...well…y'know…"
And there was another chink in her armor, courtesy of Fix-It Felix's adorable self . Calhoun chuckled, ruffling his immaculate hair—ignoring his small squeal of protest. "You'll be the death of me, Fix-It," she smirked.